


Officer Harrington

by wingedbears



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Making Out, Oral Sex, POV Billy Hargrove, Praise Kink, Roleplay, Semi-Public Sex, Sex on a Car, Smut, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21567937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingedbears/pseuds/wingedbears
Summary: me, on the discord: LOOK I just want a cute est relationship fic where they do some roleplaying with Steve's deputy uniform. Is drive by dick sucking really a stretch?
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 7
Kudos: 198





	Officer Harrington

Billy’s bone tired after work, too many cars with hidden problems, just peeling back one layer to find a whole new rat’s nest of issues. 

He slumps in his Camaro, glad that she’s still working after all these years, coming up on ten for her. Billy runs freshly scrubbed hands through his hair, fluffing it and playing with the curl in front for a moment in the rear view mirror before pulling out a cigarette and rolling the window down. 

He watches as Bobby shuts down the garage through the front shield window, taking a long pull.

Bobby catches him looking and sends him a look _what the hell, kid, go home_. 

Billy likes having the moments outside the garage and on the drive home to think, to let loose. 

He turns over the engine, and with Motley Crue playing, peels out of the gravel lot. 

He’s most of the way home when he hears it: the distinct whoop of police sirens. 

Billy sighs, pulls over and waits, too tired to figure out which of the local assholes it is.

The light tap at the window comes, and Billy shuts the engine off, and not looking, rolls the window down. “Good evening officer,” he grumbles, feeling edgy. Used to, he’d get into a fight about it. He leans over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Know how fast you were going, Hargrove?” 

Billy looks up, a smile stretching across his face. 

Steve Harrington. 

“The speed limit,” Billy says, sharp teeth and eager eyes.

Steve, on the other hand, is nervously looking into the corn field across the way, and behind, where an idyllic house near a lake sits. Mrs. Gunder’s house. Steve chose well for their spot.

“I need to see your license and registration, please,” Steve says, still not looking at Billy. 

“Hey,” Billy says lowly. “You don’t have to,” he says, a way out. Sure, it’s been a fantasy of Billy’s, but he’d rather Steve be into it too, than constantly looking over his shoulder wondering if Mrs. Gunder was going to come down the drive and yell at them.

Steve looks at him for the first time since he’s pulled Billy over. 

Wordlessly, he takes the offered license and paper and looks them over, long fingers smoothing over frayed edges. 

“Your license is out of date,” Steve says, handing it back to Billy.

Billy takes a cursory glance. It won’t expire until next year. Billy throws it on the passenger seat. “Guess you’ll have to take me in,” Billy says, oozing confidence. He thrusts his hips out under the steering wheel.

Steve snorts. “Okay, that’s not how this works,” he laughs.

“A ticket?” Billy guesses, leaning out the window to get into Steve’s space. 

Steve, who’s into it now, _yes,_ who’s leaned over and looking into the Camaro like there’s other incriminating evidence in the back seat. (There’s not, other than the fucking jizz stain Steve left on the ceiling that one time.)

Billy can feel his pants tighten, eager at Steve’s next move. 

“I could let you go with a warning,” Steve says. “But,” he bites his lip, looking down into Billy’s lap _God, he’s into it, yes_ , “I’m gonna need to make sure you get that license renewed.”

Billy bats his lashes, big, blue eyes looking so innocent. “Whatever do you mean, Officer Harrington?” he asks.

Steve glares, blushing, and Billy curses himself for pushing it too far. Steve’s gonna step out, step away, and then the meal at home is going to be weird and stilted until they talk it through.

Billy’s resigned to a dinner with only Jeopardy for noise when Steve straightens up. 

The Camaro is low to the ground, Billy knows this. But he’s never really given thought to how perfectly it frames Harrington’s bulging erection until this very moment. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, mouth already watering at the prospect of getting his lips around the monster in Harrington’s pants. 

“No,” Steve says, slipping a hand into the window and pulling Billy towards him, “suck.”

That’s all the go ahead Billy needs, and he’s deftly unbuckling and unzipping the stupid brown pants Steve has to wear, tugging down Steve’s underwear and pulling out that fat, delicious cock. 

Steve grunts, nails scratching Billy’s scalp, waiting for the moment when Billy will stop stroking him and actually put his mouth on Steve.

Billy doesn’t take long, he never does, licking long messy stripes up the shaft to stop at the head and suckle there. He lathes his tongue over Steve’s slit, dipping his head to take and take and retreat again. 

Steve groans, nails digging into Billy’s skin, _gently always gently_ , running fingers over Billy’s cheeks, the bridge of his nose. “Sweetheart,” Steve moans.

Billy hums in response, happy to be Steve’s anything, proud to be Steve’s _sweetheart_. Used to he’d throw a punch for that, but he’s really softened up since high school. 

He shifts in the seat around his growing erection, and brings his right hand up to grab at Steve’s ass to draw him in.

“Billy,” Steve hisses.

Billy simply takes more of Steve’s fat cock in his mouth, watering from the taste of precum and from want and no room in his mouth for anything other than Steve. Drool runs down the side of his chin, and Billy savors it, lets it help glide his lips and mouth down until the head of Steve’s cock hits the back of his throat. 

Steve grunts, and there’s a bang on the top of the car, presumably from Steve hitting it, and Billy flutters his throat and draws back before punishing Steve with a bright pinch on his ass. 

Steve jerks away.

“Watch the car,” Billy says, the words feeling strange on his tongue after knowing nothing but cock for the last two minutes. He pulls Steve back in, stroking the thick shaft and getting his mouth back to Steve’s leaking cock. 

_Shit yeah, he’s wet_ , Billy thinks, loving the taste of Steve, of musky, tangy, sharp on his tongue, the bitter smell of sweat in his nose. 

Billy could, and has, sucked off Steve for hours before. 

But by the way Steve’s hips are twitching, it’s not going to last that long.

Billy grins, jerking Steve more quickly before kissing the tip over and over, then dipping down to take all of Steve in, no mean feat, letting Steve’s head come to the back of Billy’s throat in that one too many moments of no air before pulling back again. And repeats.

Billy feels Steve’s hand try to gain purchase on Billy’s flitting movements, stutter in the short hairs of Billy’s head and then the quaking of Steve’s thighs. Billy sighs in relief, in a dreamy desire for cum, _Steve’s cum_ , and when Steve’s choked moan reaches Billy’s ears, he waits for the splash of release in his mouth.

He’s not disappointed. He never is, with Steve. 

Steve takes a few deep breaths as Billy gently tucks him back in, zips him back up. Lovingly, teasingly pats the spent length. 

“See you around, Officer,” Billy says, voice wrecked, grinning wide.

Steve leans down, belt buckle hitting the side of the car. Looks dead serious. “Get in the back,” he hisses.

“Steve,” Billy laughs, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Okay, then get out,” Steve counters, halfway into an imaginary argument.

Billy snorts, adjusts himself, and opens the car door. 

Steve steps away, letting Billy get out. 

Steve immediately flips Billy around, slamming him on the side of the car, holding him down over the back seat window, head on the roof. 

“Steve,” Billy says, stunned, laughing. “I think that’s supposed to happen first,” he says. 

“Keep your hands on the vehicle, sir,” Steve whispers into Billy’s ear, and _holy shit, Mrs. Gunder’s about to get the show of her life if she looks out the kitchen window._

Billy does as Steve says, and Steve unbuttons and unzips Billy’s jeans, sliding a hand down to meet Billy’s cock, shoving his jeans down just enough to release it. 

Billy moans, pleasure sweeping through him, the build up of sucking Steve coming to fruition. 

Steve brings a hand up and spits on it before wrapping it around Billy’s dick again, and stroking him quickly, licking the shell of Billy’s ear. 

“So good for me, sweetheart,” Steve says, and Billy keens, trying to hide his face in his arms from Steve’s words, from his attention. “Got a good mouth on you, always have, you should always have a cock to suck, shouldn’t you?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Billy nods anyway.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, twisting his wrist before stopping and gently rubbing Billy’s foreskin over the head of his cock, pinching and pulling. “Thank fuck you chose mine, huh?” Steve asks, bringing up his other hand to pinch a nipple through Billy’s shirt.

Billy’s knees buckle, and he scrambles to stay on top of the car, feet trying to steady themselves on cracked asphalt. 

“You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” Steve asks, “You gonna let me have that pretty spunk of yours?”

Billy bites his lip, the delicious burn of pleasure building and building, careening over his senses, like there’s no brakes, just Steve, _jacking him off outside on the car_.

Billy comes, grunting, Steve shushing him, as he spills on the window.

Steve holds him for a moment before slowly guiding his head down to the stain on the window. “Clean it up,” he says, voice rough.

Billy moans, feeling weak, licking up his own cum from the Camaro, messy wipes of his tongue, leaving a smear on the window.

“Fuck,” he says, and stands up, his back to the car. 

Steve smiles, almost shy, and tucks Billy’s cock back into his jeans before cradling Billy’s face in his hands. “Good?” he asks, before kissing Billy softly, licking into Billy’s mouth.

Billy hums. “It’s always good,” he says without thinking. 

Steve preens at this, and Billy smirks a little. 

“You headed home now?” Steve says, lazily kissing Billy’s jaw, his ear, that one spot on his neck. 

“Unless you want Mrs. Gunder to watch round two,” Billy teases. 

Steve hums. “Absolutely not, she’s not invited,” he says against the corner of Billy’s lips.

Billy laughs, delighted.

“I’ll uh,” Steve clears his throat steps away and looks down; finally buckles his belt. “Escort you home, Mr. Hargrove.”

Billy smirks, pushing his hips out, jeans still unzipped. “See you at home, Officer Harrington,” he says, and impulsively grabs Steve and reels him in for another kiss.

Jeopardy can wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on tumblr! [wingedbears](http://www.wingedbears.tumblr.com)


End file.
